


i can't lie (i like the feeling, how you make me shy)

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Nipple Play, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There’s an itch in Minghao’s fingers but his camera’s all the way across the bed and he can’t be bothered to move any miles right now.





	i can't lie (i like the feeling, how you make me shy)

**Author's Note:**

> tagged nipple play but ? not much of it is there?? sorry if im scamming u guys 
> 
> also sidenote..... the self esteem & body image issues are present for only a really _small_ bit  & i originally wasnt sure if it was enough to warrant tagging it but ! ykno. stay safe :^0
> 
> title from carly rae jepsen's gimmie love. tbh?? that's all this is?? fluff pwp written to crj's divine discography??????

There's something about waking up next to his boyfriend that's just so pretty, Minghao thinks. 

 

It's definitely the eyelashes, though; dainty and quaint against soft skin, taunting Minghao to poke Seungkwan’s cheeks. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. In hindsight, he just woke up, so it's pretty safe to say that every decision he’s made thus far is an unconscious one.

 

Either way, Minghao’s hands end up rested against Seungkwan’s face, soft and gentle in the way he pushes stray hairs away. There’s an itch in Minghao’s fingers but his camera’s all the way across the bed, and he can’t be bothered to move any miles right now. 

 

This close, Seungkwan's a galaxy. There’s no literal way to put it; fragile poetics the only closest thing Minghao can grasp at as he counts every cute little mole and mark along Seungkwan’s face. Though, they're ones he doesn’t get to notice often, as Seungkwan tends to cover them up most of the time. It's a damn tragedy, and Minghao wants to hunt down whatever godforsaken spawn of the universe is making Seungkwan think there's a _need_ to— 

 

Groggy, Seungkwan lets out a grumble. Like Minghao’s anger at the universe just managed to stir the boy awake. 

 

"Morning," Minghao whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to Seungkwan’s nose.

 

"What time is it?" Seungkwan asks, eyes still closed as his hand start rubbing at Minghao’s side, lazy and soft. A good morning of sorts. "Never mind. I'm too comfy to panic about how late I woke up." 

 

Minghao hasn’t brushed his teeth yet, so he tries his best not to giggle right at Seungkwan’s face. Though, neither has Seungkwan, and Minghao still really wants to kiss him pretty badly. Instead, Minghao lets his head rest deeper into the pillow. "It's still pretty early, actually—" in that moment, Seungkwan really chooses to _flutter_ his eyes open; almost instantly, Minghao forgets he’s saying something. Agh. "—Around. 6 in the morning." 

 

“6? In the morning?” Seungkwan shoves his face into the pillow and groans, “Yeah, okay. Good night then.” At that, Minghao lets himself giggle, but it’s more a quirk of his lips and a huff of breath than it is an actual laugh.

 

Minghao’s hand roams, settling at Seungkwan’s neck to keep his hand warm. Seungkwan takes his face out of the pillow then, and looks at Minghao straight in the eye. Minghao’s not really sure what Seungkwan’s trying to accomplish, but it sure does knock the air straight out of his chest. 

 

“Hi,” Seungkwan says in the smallest voice. Minghao would say hi back, but Seungkwan’s a bit busy staring at Minghao’s mouth; Minghao licks his lips, and revels in the feeling of Seungkwan’s hand tightening around his waist. It’s so cute. Minghao can’t take this anymore, he needs to kiss the boy. 

 

“Where are you going?” Seungkwan whines as Minghao quite literally detaches himself from Seungkwan. It’s no easy task, since his boyfriend has octopus arms and gets cold easily without someone to latch unto, but more so is Minghao a man of ambition:

 

He’s going to kiss this boy. With a clean mouth. 

 

“Gonna brush my teeth. Wanna come with?” Minghao offers. Seungkwan pouts. “C’mon. My mouth tastes like a sewage system.” 

“It’s 6 in the morning.” Seungkwan says, “Stop making life so hard.” But he gets up anyway, walking over to Minghao and slithering his arms around his waist from behind, “I hate you so much.” 

 

“Hate you too,” Minghao grabs unto Seungkwan’s hands and winds them tighter around himself. Hey, it’s been cold lately, but Minghao just likes making excuses. 

 

By the time they get to the bathroom Seungkwan’s arms have never left. “You smell good,” Seungkwan says, face buried in Minghao’s neck like there’s a secret world somewhere in there. 

 

Minghao hums around the toothbrush in his mouth, spits, rinses, and watches, amused, as Seungkwan gets off of Minghao to brush his teeth too. He does it like it’s the hardest thing in the world: grumbling and tripping over his toes as he tries to pat down the stray bit of hair that keeps springing up.

 

“It’s our new detergent,” Minghao says as he uses his still damp fingers to draw out the stray hair and annoy his boyfriend in the process. 

 

“ _Shtopthut_ ,” Seungkwan groans around the toothbrush before spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth too. He turns around, leaning against the sink top and frowning at Minghao. “Happy now?” 

 

Minghao doesn’t respond, just dips in closer into Seungkwan’s space, close enough that he can smell the mint. There’s a short moment, a buffering period where Seungkwan watches, expectant—they’re both still waking up—before their lips touch and everything goes warm near the base of Minghao’s chest. Seungkwan tilts his head, arms slinging around Minghao’s shoulders to pull him closer, dragging the heat and the warmth everywhere along Minghao’s chest. Minghao rests his hands on Seungkwan’s waist, careful not to press him too hard into the sink. 

 

They pull apart, minty freshness melting into warmth. “Much better,” Minghao whispers into the corner of Seungkwan’s lips. 

 

Eyes sleepy, Seungkwan breathes, before he brings their lips together again, their teeth clacking against each other at the sudden contact. It makes 1) Seungkwan giggle into the kiss, and 2) Minghao so grateful that he manages to catch the sound in his throat. 

 

Minghao takes a step back, bringing Seungkwan with him as he tries to blindly go back to their bed. Seungkwan’s no help either as he kisses forward with every step he takes, eyes closed and lips distracting. It’s the blind leading the blind, but Minghao can’t really be bothered to care when he’s so generously being offered a kiss, a kiss, a kiss, and another. 

 

Minghao falls into the edge of the bed, Seungkwan climbing on top of his lap to cage him in. 

 

They pull apart to breathe, Seungkwan’s fingers tangling into Minghao’s hair, as he says, “After this we’re going the fuck back to sleep, okay?” 

 

“Agreed,” Minghao concurs, hands finding the small of Seungkwan’s back and lips finding the skin at his neck. Seungkwan keens, arching into his hold. Seungkwan’s fingers, then, fluttery and teasing, pull at Minghao’s hair. 

 

Minghao kisses and licks at Seungkwan’s neck in response, too lazy to make any dark marks but still needy in intent. 

 

“Ah,” Seungkwan breathes out as Minghao’s hands slide under his hoodie, ghosting over his nipples and wanting more warmth and just. Closer, _closer_ —Minghao’s fingers only a little bit jittery under the urge to take a snapshot of everything he’s feeling, “Hao.” 

 

Seungkwan’s hand ventures down, tracing a line down Minghao’s neck, to his chest, to his crotch, before palming him in his sweatpants, all full and hot. Minghao sighs into Seungkwan’s neck before pulling off, and when he looks up, suddenly everything is so hazy and gentle, sunlight peeking in through the blinds and dancing along Seungkwan’s face, dripping down his neck. 

 

“Hey. Stop that,” Seungkwan glances to the side. It’s a small detail.

 

Bashful. 

 

Minghao coaxes his hoodie up; tries to ignore the heat of Seungkwan’s palm on him as he asks, “Stop what?” 

 

It takes too long of a moment to get the hoodie up and off, Seungkwan only bringing his arms up after a blink of hesitation. When the hoodie is gone, Seungkwan’s eyes are downcast. It’s the smallest detail.

 

Embarrassed?

 

“Stop what?” Minghao asks again. Seungkwan’s hands fumble upward to hold unto Minghao’s shoulders, the action pushing him away by a hair strand. The bed creaks when Seungkwan’s knee pushes deeper into the bed and it sounds a lot like Minghao’s heart breaking in his chest, so carefully, Minghao’s hands go to the back of Seungkwan’s thighs, gently guiding him down into the bed.

 

Flustered by the sudden change of position, Seungkwan’s eyes go wide and he lets out a little yelp, before giggling into the morning air. It sounds like it would taste like cream. 

 

So, Minghao kisses him. Stares at him when he pulls back. And, third times’ the charm: he asks again, “Stop what, Boo?” 

 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

 

They stare at each other until Minghao shoots a wink. Seungkwan’s face goes red then, his hands going up to cover his face to hold the squeal that he lets out. 

 

“I’m not talking to you,” Seungkwan concludes, voice muffled under his hands. Minghao laughs, completely compelled by the sheer amount of _lovability_ (is that even a word? Minghao can’t find it in himself to care) that a single Boo Seungkwan can muster. 

 

“Hm, where’d Boo go?” Minghao dips down to kiss one of Seungkwan’s fingers. A lot like magic, the finger moves and Seungkwan’s eye peeks out. “Ah, there he is.” 

 

“You’re lucky I’m in love with you,” Seungkwan whispers, face still red as his hands move down to rest at Minghao’s shoulders. Minghao laughs, hands roaming; shivering at all the warm skin he gets to feel. The itch is coming back.

 

“Hey,” Minghao starts, Seungkwan sucking in a breath as Minghao presses at one of his nipples, “Would you mind if I take a few pictures of you?” 

 

“Oh my god,” Seungkwan breathes out, either at Minghao’s sudden suggestion or at the long fingers that pull at his nipples, “If you’re thinking about submitting them to your prof, then count yourself sued.” 

 

Minghao leans over to the bedside table where his camera is. “I might,” he jokes, but there’s a little artsy part of him that considers it. He’ll admit he’s a bit of a fool for that bit of rawness; for the too personal glimpses that border on so near they’re almost quiet. Though, his prof’s definitely seen tons of those kinds of submissions (Those annoyingly raunchy ones? Yeah, she'll start banning shots of any vaguely human appendage sometime soon). It’d be a far more artistic decision to keep these shots to himself, but, you know, he just likes making excuses. “If you’d let me.” 

 

Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “Whatever.” 

 

Minghao settles in between Seungkwan’s legs, camera in hand. He plays around with the settings for a bit, as Seungkwan, out of patience and pride, apparently, lifts his hips up to grind against Minghao. Click. 

 

When Seungkwan hears the sound, his cheeks go a shade of pink that’s almost orange under the light that swings in through the window. His hands go to lift Minghao’s shirt to distract himself. Click. 

 

 _Bite_ , Seungkwan mouths at Minghao so the shirt stays up, and Minghao does, taking the hem of his own shirt into his mouth. Seungkwan’s hands roam, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he presses color in Minghao’s skin. 

 

Seungkwan plays around with Minghao’s nipples, the latter almost dropping his camera at the sensation, and when Seungkwan pulls at them, Minghao accidentally takes a blurry shot of the wall, exhaling. 

 

Minghao starts grinding back, the motion making Seungkwan chew on his lip and hell, he’s definitely doing it for the picture, the tease. Click, click. 

 

Minghao sighs, Seungkwan’s hands drifting down to pull out Minghao’s cock from his sweatpants. Minghao does the same, using one hand to unbutton and unzip Seungkwan’s jeans, until the both of them start pumping each other’s cocks to hardness. It’s a slow beat, still dry because the lube’s all the way somewhere too far. Under a pillow or something. Seungkwan’s the more impatient of the two of them, though, bringing his hand up to spit in it and back to pump smoother, _faster_. 

 

Minghao catches precome and uses it as slick, twisting his wrist as the beat starts matching up with Seungkwan’s. 

 

Seungkwan bites on the back of his other hand, and when Minghao sees him do so, he can’t help it he just has to— _click_ —lean forward and bring both their cocks together with his hand, pumping them against each other. Seungkwan’s knees clip at either side of Minghao’s waist, his precome-slick hand coming up to fiddle with Minghao’s nipple and the heat of it all starts coiling around everywhere. In his cock, in his abdomen, in his chest and up his fingertips. “Fuck,” Minghao swears, the cloth in his mouth falling out.

 

When Seungkwan’s back starts arching into the feeling, hair falling into his eyes as he whines around the finger he has in his mouth, it makes Minghao so much more motivated to pump tighter, faster; click, click, click, _gasping_. 

 

Minghao sets his camera down somewhere on the bed so he can focus on the rhythm of his hands and the buck of his hips. 

 

His now free hand comes up to brush through Seungkwan’s hair before he leans down to catch his lips mid-moan, the sound thrumming into his throat; his cock. Seungkwan holds his face as he kisses him back, teeth clacking and tongues meeting, and at this point? Minghao doesn’t mind that one of those hands is sticky with his own precome. 

 

“ _H-Hao_ , I’m—” Seungkwan’s head tilts and tips back, eyes hazy as his hand dips down to join Minghao’s, guiding his hand to go faster, “— _Nn_ —close.” 

 

Minghao nods, finds Seungkwan’s other hand to hold, and goes faster, chasing. 

 

It happens after a blink, but Seungkwan’s coming first, Minghao close behind. “Ah, ah, _ah_ ,” Seungkwan chants as his hands grab at the sheets, Minghao still pumping all of it out in between their stomachs. When Minghao finally lets go, he leans down to kiss Seungkwan again, the action making their already sensitive cocks rub at each other (it makes the both of them pull apart with a wince, huffing out laughter even when they’ve both ran out of breath). 

 

-

 

When Minghao wakes up, it’s 9 AM. He feels slightly more like a human being. Operative word here being, slightly, of course. He’s walking on a thin line here as he’s scrolling through all the shots he took earlier. Seungkwan’s completely knocked out beside him, holding him close as per usual. 

 

Minghao's so busy deleting all the blurry shots that he almost deletes the most recent photo—he doesn’t remember taking it; it’s one of himself, asleep. It goes from his eyes down to his neck. Seungkwan’s hand is in the picture too, rested against his cheek. It’s peaceful. Almost tender as he reads the timestamp, 8:08 AM. 

 

Minghao sits up to charge his camera, and when he shimmies back into the blankets, he finds Seungkwan’s hand. 

 

Gently, Minghao presses a kiss into his fingertips. It’s a lot like magic.

**Author's Note:**

> pls... tell me to tag anything ive missed out on & of any typos........my brain left me 8 years ago in the dairy aisle of a grocery store ... sad face emoji :^( 
> 
> comments r highly appreciated!! :^D


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